Double Time!
by LaManiac
Summary: Hermione and Ginny are both pregnant, and this is a rather sarcastic view of it.
1. And we begin!

I own nothing. Period. End of story. K? Awesome.

Alright, so. The main idea is that Ginny and Hermione are each pregnant. I'm thinking off maybe keeping this short, and it may end up being a one-shot, simply because I'm lazy as all hell.

Oh, and pardon my French in the story.

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL!" 

Ginny Weasley held up the white stick and stared at the readout.

"Ginny."

"What, Hermione?"

"You're frickin' pregnant."

"Yeah, I got that." Ginny rolled her eyes and stared at the readout.

"Does he know?"

"Hmm, let's think, I just took this, he's at work, I haven't called him. I'm guessing... no, Hermione."

"Well, excuuuuuse me! I was just asking!" Hermione stalked off in search of some tea and a bottle of fruity vodka.

-----

Confused yet? I'm sure you are.

It's years after the graduation of the "famous trio" and Ginny. They paired up (Ron to Hermione, Harry to Ginny), got married, and went about normal wizard life.

Oh, yeah, Voldemort's been defeated. But that was years ago, and Harry doesn't like to talk about it. He's _sensitive_ like that.

Ron and Harry hold boring jobs at the Ministry and lead semi-boring lives – except when the wives get together. That usually results in bad drapes, a big fight, and great make-up sex for each party.

By the way, Hi, I'm the narrator.

But, anyways, enough of my babble. Ew, I can't believe I just babbled. I feel so dirty.

Back to Ginny and Hermione.

-----

"How are you going to tell him?"

"I have no bloody idea! D'you?"

"Nope. I'm so glad I don't have to deal with this." Hermione took a sip of her spiked tea and turned pale. "Aw, gross, the booze sucks! I have to go puke."

Ginny laughed to herself. _Watch her be pregnant,_ she thought. _That would be hilarious._

-----

Hermione picked up some Floo and sent her head to the Potter's house.

"GINNY!"

"What, Hermione? Can it wait? I don't have enough pickles!"

"No, it can't wait! And hand me some pickles, would you?" Ginny threw a few pickles into the fire and watched Hermione almost inhale them.

"Hermione, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"Damnit'ahell sperm! I'm frickin' pregnant, too!"

"What was the fight? The new couch?"

"No, he went back to the frickin' drapes again."

"Blighter."

"Tell me about it. Hey, could I have another pickle? And dip it in the marinara." Hermione hungrily eye the giant pickles and dip platter Ginny had set out for herself.

"Pickle and marinara? I haven't tried that one."

"It's a delicacy. I had it for breakfast."

"Hey, come on over, we can experiment with pickles and dips."

"Awesome. Got any horseradish and Dijon?" Hermione bumbled through and the two wives began to raid the refrigerator.

-----

"Eh, Harry. Have you noticed something weird with the girls?" Ron was cleaning out his desk for the weekend, while Harry filed the last report for that day.

"What? Well, kind of. Gin's been going through pickles like there's no tomorrow. And she ate all the mayo." Harry had a weird, confused face on.

"Yeah, same here, only it's the tomato sauce. Women have such odd food tastes."

"I once dated this girl who would eat her animal crackers with marinara."

"How long did she last?"

"Four days."

"Ah."

"Eh, well, back to the lovelies." Both men gathered up their work belongings and locked the office door behind them.

-----

"Ginny, I've become a pickle reserve." Hermione and Ginny were sprawled across couches, bloated with pickles, mayo, dijon, horseradish, marinara, and an assortment of other strange dips that normally don't go along very well with pickles.

"At least our children will have good taste in food. No pun intended."

"Hey, it's great that they eat."

"Hermione, I feel fat."

"Join the club. We've got jackets."

They heard several thumps as Harry banged the door closed and trudged in, wet cloak and all.

"Stupid weatherman. _No, it's going to be warm, and nice, and dry_. Fucking blighter. Hey, Hermione."

"Hi Harry."

"How are you, Gin? How was work?" Harry walked over and gave his wife a kiss, before removing his cloak and hanging it on the nearby hook.

"I called out sick. I didn't feel like going."

"Why not?" Harry gave a confused face again, but Hermione spoke before Ginny could.

"Ron's calling. I've got to get home." Hermione waved a large purple galleon before putting it back in her pocket, grabbing Floo powder, and jumping into the fireplace.

"So, wait, why did you call out of work? Mental health day?" Harry sunk into the couch, next to his wife.

"Hah, more like physical health." _Frickin' hell, Ginny. Shut up while you're ahead._

"Are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you need me to make dinner?"

"I don't need anything, and you can make dinner if you truly want to, but I've got something to tell you."

"Oh, no, is that stupid stomach bug going around again? The one where we can't have sex? That was the worst. I've never been so deprived in my—"

"Harry, shh. I'm talking."

"Well, then, what is it?"

"I'm frickin' pregnant."

-----

"Holy. Fucking. Hell. You mean to tell me, there's a little person in there-" Harry pointed to her stomach, "- that we made?"

"Well, yes, Harry, that's the general idea of _pregnancy_."

"Wow. This is so cool. I've got to tell Ron!" Harry jumped up to send his head to Ron's, but no soonerhad his hand touched to powder did Ron's head pop up in the fireplace.

"Harry, you stupid blighter, guess what! I'M GONNA BE A DADDY!"

"Same here. Congrats."

"Wait, you mean to tell me that YOU KNOCKED UP MY BABY SISTER!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Ron!Gin and I aremarried! MARRIED!"

"Oh, yeah. AWESOME!" Ron stuck a hand through the fire and Harry high-fived it.

* * *

This quote is taken directly from the movie _Shrek 2_, which I also don't own. Just thought I'd let you know. 

And, I just feel so cool mentioning this, but – the animal crackers and marinara thing is actually part of my balanced diet. I put a little bit of myself in my story! Hah! Awesome.


	2. Weird foods and stupid men

I was just examining my story, and I noticed that, uh, the little star-thingies didn't appear, and I needed them to explain something. The quote "Join the club, we've got jackets" is directly from Shrek 2. I just had to clear that up for my own personal benefit.

So, um, yeah, more narration about a couple scattered days in the lives of famous pregnant witches. Not including Britney Spears.

Just to keep it fresh in the mind, I own nothing. If I did, I wouldn't be using my parent's computer.

* * *

Several months into the future... Probably like, four or five months-ish, I can't be sure. I don't know exactly what happens at what time during a pregnancy, because I've never been pregnant. But carry on.

-----

"GINNY!" Hermione's head once again bobbled through the fireplace of the Potter residence.

"Eh, Hermione?"

"I'm FAT!"

"Well, really, what did you expect to be, a fucking beanpole?"

"No, it's not like that. I'm fat! I'm fat because I'm MUTATING!"

"Hermione, get the fuck over here!"

"Alright, don't lose your blob!"

"Haven't got one, DUH!" Hermione tumbled through and sulked into the couch opposite a sprawled Ginny.

"Why are you fat, Hermione?"

"Look at this!" Hermione lifted her shirt just enough to show a stiff round belly. "I could smash a vase against this! This is too weird!" Hermione began to bawl.

"Hermione, please. The happened to me weeks ago. At least _your_ kid doesn't play football with your organs. I swear, after this, I'm adopting."

"Hear, hear. Damnit, I wish I could drink. I think I need a couple shots to calm me down."

"Harry's got some alcohol-free beer-"

"BEER!" Hermione ran to the fridge and began digging before she caught sight of something.

"Hey, did Harry go to that big bulk store an get you these?" Hermione held up three giant jars of pickles, mayo, and marinara.

"Yep. I made him. There's also cool whip and Doritos. Bring all of it over."

"Stupid Ron. He's sleeping on the couch tonight. Ooh, Cool Whip!" Hermione magiced over everything and the women began a gigantic feast.

-----

Meanwhile, back at the Ministry, Harry and Ron were mulling around the office until the next report came at four.

"Harry, has it hit you yet?"

"Has what hit me?"

"The whole... pregnant thing?"

"Kinda. You?"

"It really did last night. She barged out of the shower and abstractly declared that she's mutating." Harry laughed at his best friend.

"Ginny's just become more sarcastic. Other than that, the puking and the food, I haven't really noticed as much."

"Is she, quote-unquote, 'mutating', as Hermione calls it?"

"No, but she constantly looks as though someone knocked the wind out of her."

"Geez, I wish my wife were more like yours."

"Ew, Ron. That's perverted." Harry gave Ron a look and walked out for some more infected work-coffee.

-----

"Hermione, next time, can we raid your fridge? I've got almost nothing left for my 3.00 snack."

"If Ron bothered to _buy_ anything, I would offer, but he's stupid."

"Well, yeah, he's Ron."

"Why do you get the good husband?"

"I won the dating lottery."

"Rrrr. I'm going to have a chat with Ron tonight."

"Better yet, get my mum involved. That would be interesting."

"Yes, that would."

"I wish I had some pie."

"I wish my husband weren't so stupid."

"I wish this little blighter would stop kicking me."

"I wish that- OW!" Hermione screamed and rubbed a spot on her belly.

"What?"

"The baby kicked!" Hermione became excited and rubbed the spot again.

"Oh, don't get too happy. It's not as great as you think."

"Kind of like Howard Stern?"

"Exactly. Overrated. All of it."

-----

Harry and Ron trudged into Harry's house, soaking wet, again.

"Fucking England and its rain. Hi, Hermione. Hullo, Gin." Harry kissed his wife.

"Hi, Harry."

"Hullo, Hermione, love." Ron attempted to kiss his wife but she backed away with a stern look.

"I have to talk to you."

"Haha, Ron, you dumbass. What did you do now?" Harry laughed at Ron's predicament.

"Oh, shut _up_." Ron and Hermione retired to another room in the house. Harry sank into the couch, right next to his wife, and pulled her over into a cuddle, because he's _sensitive_ like that.

"So, how was your day?"

"Alright, but you need to go the store again. We're out of Doritos and marinara, and we're almost done with the Cool Whip."

"Why don't you ever invade their place?"

"Because Ron's a dumbass."

"Sorry, forgot." Something smashed against the wall and high-pitched screaming resonated throughout the room.

"Ugh, god, get them away from each other before they begin to fornicate in our den!"

"What?" Ginny got up and waddled to the den, demanding that they clean up and leave. A slight clink and two pops later, Ginny came back in with an exasperated look on her face.

"What the flying fuck-?"

"Those two are rabbits, honestly. They were horrid when they were dating. Nothing in the Burrow could block them out. It was horrid."

"I never heard them at school."

"Head Girl Dorms."

"Oh."

"You making dinner?"

"Absolutely, love." Harry kissed his wife before getting up.

"Oh, cut the mushy crap, and turn on some Springer before I barf! I'm going for a bath." Not wanting to take her up on the barfing offer, Harry quickly switched on a Springer classic, _I'm dating your brother and screwing your grandmother because I am a transvestite_.

* * *

I had to add some Americana into it.

So, apparently, this is no longer a one-shot, but it may end here, because, of course, I'm lazy as hell.

I don't own Cool Whip, Doritos, Howard Stern, Springer, or that specific episode.


	3. That was my new rug, too

We are here, at the Weasley residence, for a change, because, of course, Ron finally decided to go shopping. This is the very end of the pregnancies, so hang tight, bee-hotches!

* * *

"What in the blazes did you do to my NEW FUCKING RUG?"

"I did nothing!"

"Bullshit! Why is there PISS on my new rug?"

"I didn't piss!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"I did not! My water broke, for fuck's sake!"

"Oh, _sure_, that's what all the pregnant women say!" Ginny cleaned up her rug and waddled out angrily with a waddling Hermione at her heels.

"Ouch! Damnit, Ginny, I've got to get to St. Mungo's!"

"Well, pin a rose on your nose. Ha! I kill myself some days," Ginny giggled. Hermione suddenly pointed at a rather large wet spot in the middle of Ginny's maternity robes.

"Honestly, Ginny, it wasn't _that_ funny."

-----

"Hey, Ron, what did you do with the Fletcher report?" Harry called out. Ron grumpily stomped in with a mug of coffee sloshing in his hand.

"It's in there, damnit! Look!"

"It's not, Ron. I checked."

"Check again."

"I've already checked twice."

"Check a third time." Harry sighed.

"It's. Not. There. How many times must I drill this into your head?"

"None, because it's there!"

"Poor Hermione. Alright, Ron, I'll prove it to you. _Accio Fletcher report!_" A large packet of paper came zooming by, taking time to whap Ron on the head.

"I told you, Ron."

"_Nyeh-nyeh-nyeh, I told you Ron, nyeh-nyeh-nyeh._ You don't have Hermione as a wife, keeping you up. Those hormones are seriously fucking with her mind."

"Ginny got so mad at me the other night she was conjuring plates simply so she could smash them on my head. I still have a bruise." Harry pointed to a black-and-purple lump on the left-hand corner of his forehead.

"Haha. I am still bruise free."

"But you're also sex-free too, aren't you?" asked Harry, realizing that he had hit a nerve in Ron's brain.

"If you put another hand on my baby sister..." Harry got up to properly whap Ron upside the head.

"When the hell are you going to get it through your mind that we're _married_? See? See the ring on my hand? I got that at my _wedding_. And guess what? Ginny has one, too. Do you understand what that means? Let me clue you in. _We're married, you moron!_"

Harry threw up his hands in defeat and got back to his report while Ron stalked back to his desk, still rubbing the spot where Harry had hit him.

-----

"Aw, shit, I just these robes last week!"

Ginny stared down at that stupid wet spot on her favorite new maternity robes.

"Ginny, damnit, go Floo the boys."

"Why me? You do it!"

"No!"

"And why not?"

"Because I'm older and bigger than you!"

"Oh, yes, 23 months is _such_ an age gap these days. And besides, it's not my fault your baby's fat!"

"Don't say that! You'll hurt it's feelings!"

"If your child grows up to be a ninny, don't come crying to me!"

"Stop saying that! The baby can hear you!"

"You know what? I give up. You do it, if you're so keen."

"Fine, I will!" Hermione stuck her head into the fireplace to call the boys. Standing up, the realization of what just happened hit her.

"Ginny, you bitch!" Ginny just laughed.

"You know, Hermione, for the _cleverest_ witch of your age, you're a bit of a dimwit." Ginny waddled away, leaving a huffy and fat Hermione so that she could quickly pack.

-----

At St. Mungo's

-----

"Harry, damnit, take my stuff out of my robes and bring it back to size." Harry rushed over to his wife's cloak and tapped the suitcase quickly. Once attaining normalcy, Harry lugged the suitcase to his wife, so she could order him to put things around the room for a little decoration.

Hermione, on the other hand, was not faring quite at well.

"Damnit, Ron, just summon the fuck already! It hurts! You'll never do this again, do you hear me?" Hermione was in mid-contraction, and Ron had no idea what to do, so he sat there as his fingers were being shattered.

A Healer arrived to inform Hermione could start pushing once dilated.

This was not what Hermione wanted to hear.

"WHY CAN'T YOU USE MAGIC? YOU CAN TURN PEOPLE INTO FUCKING CANARIES AND YET YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY IFND THE TIME TO MAKE THIS PAIN FUCKING STOP?"

Harry and Ginny could hear her screams many rooms down the hall.

"You know, for the cleverest witch of our age, she certainly seems to be a bit of a dimwit," chuckled Harry.

"That's exactly what I said. OH FUCK!" Ginny felt another contraction and mashed Harry's large hand in her own tiny one. A Healer came in, similar to the one that had, unfortunately, entered the Weasley room.

"Good, now, I'm guessing that in about an hour's time you can push, Mrs-?"

"Potter."

"As in Harry?"

"No, as in Bob. What do you bloody think?" Harry meekly waved to the exited Healer.

"Oh, the Chosen One is having a baby! With his Hogwarts lover! Oh, it's so BEAUTIFUL!" The Healer weeped and skipped out of the room.

"Ginny."

"Yes?"

"Kill me."

"Um, no. But I feel another contraction coming on. How about I break your hand instead?"

"Even better."

-----

"FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

Hermione's cry weakened as a child's cry replaced it. The Healer placed the baby on a table and waved her wand to measure the baby's stats. Ron, pale from anticipation and utter lack of solid bone in his hand, glowed as the Healer wrapped the little boy up and carried it away.

"Okay now, Mrs. Weasley, you have to push again!"

"What?" Ron's face paled again.

"Didn't you know? There's another one in there."

"How in the hell is there _another_?" Hermione cried as she lifted her head to see the healer.

"Well, it's something general humanity likes to call _twins_, darling," said Ron.

"I got that, Ron."

"Okay, Mrs. Weasley. PUSH!"

-----

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, you're parents to a little boy!"

Ginny lay sprawled on the cot as the Healer waved his wand to measure the statistics. Harry laughed triumphantly.

"GINNY! Ginny, did you see? Did you? We've got a boy!" The healer brought the child over and placed it in Harry's arms. It gave its father an odd look.

"I am NEVER doing that again." Ginny attempted to heave herself up as her mother bustled in.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so _proud_ of you!"

"Mum! Damnit, my legs are open and everything!"

"Oh, honey, calm down! Your brothers will be here shortly."

"MUM!" Unfortunately, Ginny heard the halt and recession of five pairs of shoes into the hallways, followed by retching sounds.

"Oh, Ginny dear, fix yourself!" Ginny rolled her eyes and propped herself up on her bed.

"Arthur! Arthur, you can call the boys in now!" Mr. Weasley poked his head in.

"Um, Molly dear, I don't think they're ready quite yet." Harry could still hear at least one Weasley brother retching.

"Nonsense! They need to see their nephew! Tell them dinner's off until they come in and see little... What's the name, Ginny dear?"

"Unknown, as of yet."

"Unownasovyet? What a terrible name for a child." Mrs. Weasley bustled in the Weasley brothers, still green in the face, to see their nephew.

"Hey, Gin, what's the name?" called Fred from the back of the posse.

"We haven't picked one out yet." Mrs. Weasley sighed.

"Oh, good, the other one was dreadful." Harry rubbed a temple with his free hand as Ginny went on.

"I've got no idea what to name him, Fred."

"Shotty James!" Harry held a finger to his nose. The baby squirmed and gave Harry another weird look.

"Alright, the baby's name is James."

"Ginny dear, aren't you going to pick out a middle name?"

"Shotty Arthur!" This time, Mr. Weasley held his finger to his nose. Everyone, including the baby, gave him a weird look.

"What?" he asked innocently.

-----

"It's a girl, Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione heaved a sigh of relief. Ron took a moment to look between his wife's legs.

"Please don't tell me there's another."

-----

More later, because we have yet to even experience the new and improved (or so we hope) Weasley twins. Bye.


	4. Those bastards stole our name!

Where were we? Ah, yes. Ginny and Harry are parents and are still in the process of "_name our son!_", while Hermione has given birth to twins. We're back to focus on the Weasleys.

-----

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Ronald, there's no more!" Hermione lifted her head up to yell at her husband, after the little stunt he pulled at the end of the last chapter.

"I'm just checking, I mean, we thought we were having one and all of a sudden, we've doubled in offspring! What if there's another?" Ron paled at the thought of triplets.

"No, Mr. Weasley, there are no more. You are both parents to a little boy and a little girl." The healer brought over both children and set them on Ron and Hermione.

"Ron! Holy fuck, we're parents!" Hermione began bawling and held their son. Ron simply stared at the little pink bundle on his lap.

"Ron, pick her up."

"No."

"Well, why not?"

"I'll break her."

"No, you won't."

"Yes I will."

"Just pick her up."

"But-"

"Do it, or the couch!"

"Alright, alright! Geez, baby, your mummy is certainly cranky." Ron stared at his daughter, who was now officially in his arms and giving him the oddest of looks.

"Oh, I forgot, I'm daddy, and I'm calmer." Hermione snorted at that, but Ron ignored her. "Mummy's there, and she has a temper, so don't get her mad. And you should read. And play Quidditch. But don't take Divination. It's bad. Don't kick your brother, either. I'll sic Mummy on you if you do."

"I resent that."

"Yes, Mione, I know you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know you didn't like it."

"Well, then why did you say it?"

"I'm warning our daughter."

"She's not even ten minutes old and you're shoving crap into her brain! I can't believe you!"

"I'm not _shoving crap into her brain_, I'm warning her!"

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Don't swear!"

"Who are you to talk?"

"I'm the daddy, and I wear the pants!" Hermione laughed as Ron gave her a rather scathing look.

"You wish, Ronald. You're just my bitch."

"_Don't swear!_" Ron covered his daughter's little ears. Hermione turned to answer but Mrs. Weasley came bustling in with the rest of the Weasley clan, or at least those who had not just had a baby.

"Hermione! Where's my grandchild?"

"Which one?"

"There's _multiple_?"

"Yep."

"Oh, this is so exciting! What are the names?" Hermione gave Ron a look and Ron's earned turned a lovely pale pink.

"_Ronald_ didn't seem to like any of the names I did. So right now, our children are the no-name Weasley twins." At that last comment, the elder twins perked up.

"What about Fred and George?" they said in unison.

"No," Hermione snapped.

"But-"

"Why-?"

"No."

"Can I-?"

"No."

"What's-?"

"No."

"Cheese."

"What?"

"Oh, good. We were afraid you couldn't say anything else."

"Get out."

"We still like Fred and George."

"Do you _really_ want a formerly-pregnant witch coming after you with the notion to make you female?" The twins took the hint and kindly left. Hermione sighed and Mrs. Weasley fussed with the pillows.

"Oh, Ronnie dear, why couldn't you go along with one of Hermione's names?"

"Mu-_um_."

"Hermione, if you ever have a problem, just send him over."

"Thank you, Molly."

"But, _really_, Ronniekins, just give them names."

"Arthur and Molly," Hermione piped up. It's not as though she _loved_ the names, but she wanted everybody out.

"Well now, Molly!" Mr. Weasley beamed with pride. "That makes _two_ grandchildren named after me."

"That's nice, Arthur. We're going to go check up on Ginny again before leaving." She kissed both new parents before letting out a shrill squeal of excitement.

Hermione watched as everyone left, and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Hermione, why did you just name our children after my parents?"

"I'm bad with names. It's easier this way."

"Did Dad say that he has two grandchildren named after him?"

"I believe so."

"Damn Potters stole our name."

"Bastards."

"Exactly."

-----

Ginny was finally calm. Harry and James left to do paperwork, and she had just had one wonderful hour of sleep. At that moment, her mother blasted through the door.

"Ginny, someone locked us out."

"Can't imagine who, Mum."

"Ron and Hermione have twins. Molly and Arthur."

"Great."

"Now, remember, the baby needs to be breastfed for several months. Or longer, depending. Charlie had to go for nearly a year."

"Ugh. Mum. Horrible mental image."

"I'm just saying."

"Mum, I need sleep."

"Oh, come on now."

"No. I'm tired. You of all people should understand this the best." Mrs. Weasley huffed.

"Fine, be that way. If James is messed up later in life, it's your own fault." Mrs. Weasley stomped out, leaving Ginny to massage her eyebrows and try to sleep.

-----

Four days later, leaving St. Mungo's

-----

"Ginny, how in the hell are we going to handle children?" Hermione was being pushed in a wheel chair by Ron as she held the twins. Ginny was also being pushed by her husband, but she fortunately only had one baby to hold.

"I have no idea. We're basically fucked for the rest of our lives."

"Oh, come on Gin. You're way too cheerful," marked Harry. Ron simply waved off the sarcasm.

"We're not fucked. We're the Golden Trio and the Famous Ginny. Children can't be _that_ hard."

Oh, the sheer idiocy of one Ronald Weasley.

-----

End!

-----

Yeah, I know, the whole story's kind of short, but hey! I think I should get credit for having finished my first full fanfic. That's quite the spiff, especially since I am like the ultimate in ADD poster child.

I _may_ continue with another story. I may not. The summer's winding down, so probably not, but hey. You never know.

Or do you?

You goddamn Legilimens. Stop it!


End file.
